Black Death
by Quadraceptos
Summary: The lament of a dying Assassin, his name infamous throughout the kingdom of Avalar, It being feared throughout the realm until now. After thinking back on his life, he finds out something a little more shocking than his death. The fact that he Is actually still alive.


Zed tumbles down the canyon, I believe this was a term most commonly used as, a, "fall from grace." His wings battered, his eyes tired, and his body covered in gashes, he had taken a bite of something a little bit too big by taking on this job. He pondered to himself, falling down the canyon, It seemingly taking an eternity to hit the bottom as the dragon thinks on his life, it flashing before his eyes, memories filling his head on how he became the way he Is. Ah yes, It finally struck him after colliding into a wall of the canyon, his body landing with a slam onto the rock with a sickening crunch, he couldn't feel a bit of it honestly, his mind had drifted much farther away, too far to realize the concept of pain at this point. _An Assassin,_ that's what he was, a killer for hire, someone who did nothing but murder for a higher pay. He was at the end of his rope now, he had finally been caught, It only took the strongest dragons In all of Avalar to get the job done though, but being a smart-ass under circumstances like this, that sounded just like him, he even lets out a little chuckle in his head at his own joke, In reality his body coughing up piles of blood as he drifted off to sleep, his eyes close, his body turning cold, certain that he would never awake again, that children and even the grown citizens of Avalar could sleep in peace knowing that, "Black Death" was vanquished in his final battle with the legendary dragon and his compatriots. Though even In his cold slumber, not being quite dead yet, he thought on and on about how he got started, how he became the monster that he'd certainly be known as In the news about his passing. His body was outlined with primarily black scales, spots of blood along with some fresh cuts now on them, lines of silver curling up his arms and legs and along his torso, his signature glint before the death of his prey, his eyes a blood red along with his underbelly, the blood stained on his stomach wasn't discernible from the standard color of his scales.

His mind came to, he finally remembered some things about himself other than his current looks. He was born from two loving dragons, If only he could have some of their love, before he was forcibly torn from his nest as an egg, stolen by the minions of Malefor, The Dark Dragon of legend. He remembered growing up, training his skills, honing his abilities to combat the innocents of Avalar, being born to master the art of fear and the ability to meld the shadows to his bidding. He became so adept with these abilities that Malefor personally noted him as a candidate for the General of his armies. Of course he was one to please the dark dragon, wanting to do nothing more with his life than to lead the armies of the dragon he did nothing but worship and respect day by day, seeing him as a wise, noble figure. That is, until he was informed about how he was ripped from his home after a mission went haywire, causing him to force his hand and kill a few innocents as a warning. It was there, that he began to think about what he had just done, he wept silently on the inside as he brandished the blood off of his claws, after doing so, he was Informed by the survivors that he was one of them, that he had been, "brainwashed" into being a pawn of the Dark Master. His head was in circles, he couldn't believe what he was hearing, was everything he's ever known a lie...? Was It all just Malefor feeding his hatred into him, molding him into exactly what he wanted to be? The dragon did something most unexpected, he actually went back to the Lair of the dragon, speaking with his only friend there about the subject, a dragon a bit younger than himself named Cynder, he told her that he'd be leaving, trying to convince her that she needed to leave with him. As stubborn as she always was, her corruption sank too deep into her, so far to the point that deep inside of him he knew arguing with her to leave was pointless. Using his skilled abilities, hand trained by Malefor to kill, he escaped, a fire in his eyes, rage filling his heart as he made sure to kill as many other minions as he could, enraged that he could be so foolish.

He lived his life alone for the most part, being an Assassin for hire from there, making his living through killing the good, and the bad for the right price, after his murder of the civilians, his innocence had truly left his body. Throughout the years of his youth and his maturity he had slaughtered hundreds of minions, dragons warriors, and politicians, his appearance giving him the nifty nickname he decided to cling onto, abandoning his old name for the title, "Black Death." He was infamous in the absence of the legendary purple dragon, only at the edge of the end of the world during the final battle between Spyro, Cynder, and Malefor did he ever fight against the forces of evil without pay, slaughtering rows of minions, his fury from the past increased tenfold as he realized that Cynder, the dragon he formerly knew as his only friend, was elected as the General of Malefor's armies. He swore Malefor elected her just to make him mad, just to force him to come out oncemore and try and take on his former master. After her redemption and transformation back into the normal Cynder was when he learned about it, deciding not to confront her and leave that past behind him, how fitting, seeing as she had caused the majority of his current wounds, which brought him back to thinking, why wasn't he dead yet? Where was he? Maybe he was dead, perhaps this was what being dead was like? He ponders on the subject, refusing to believe by some ridiculous miracle that he was still alive, and deciding to focus on what happened prior to the re-arrival of Spyro and Cynder after they defeated Malefor and were presumed dead for all that time.

The dragon continued his usual daily basis, looking around for a proper job as the gems from his last job were running a tad low, his looks giving away who he was in public, awaiting for an offer In his usual spot until someone asked him for the job. One. Million. Gems. His jaw almost dropped at the offer, taking It In an instant without realizing what he really signed up for, the dragon told him that the job would be told to him later, where it wasn't so populated. Of course he arrived at the meeting point, realizing no one was there before the realization hit him in the head, almost as hard as the earth crystal slamming into it after the passing few seconds of his flying. The two dragons of legend, they had returned just a few days earlier, and with the slaying of the Dark Dragon, he was apparently their new target. He let out a laugh, looking at them both with fire in his eyes, engaging them in battle with vicious swipes, dragon powers, and clashing horns, his own nearly identical to the purple dragon's. He recognized Cynder soon after the fighting began, deciding to not tell her who he was, not having the heart to do so. Oh gods, he couldn't do it, he couldn't fight against the duo, the Idea of hurting his only friend, the dragon he once thought of as a little sister type to him brought him to near tears, so he fought with all of his might, trying to engage spyro in single combat as much as possible, taking devastating hits from both of them as he finally made a dash to flee, the battle turning horrible for him, but he left plenty of marks and scratches on the purple dragon and an unintentional series of bruises of on Cynder after she tanked a blow from his fear blast that was meant for spyro, his whole idea during that fight to wound him enough to the point where they would have to leave. He severely underestimated their loyalty to one another. As he flys away as fast as possible, he turns his head, a large purple beam of light flying towards him much faster than he could fly, a charged attack from the both of them. Just as he hit the canyons edge, the beam hit him, his body being rocked to its core and searing pain being forced all through his body as he begins to fall into the canyon, leading to where he is right now.

He decided to accept the sleep finally, his subconscious had finally been taken over, his mind going blank as he seemingly took his final slumber, until something unexpected finally happened.

He woke up.


End file.
